


Once more, with feeling

by crayyyonn



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayyyonn/pseuds/crayyyonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kaidou sees Momoshiro again, it’s nearly the end of summer and in the last place he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Kaidou sees Momoshiro again, it’s nearly the end of summer and in the last place he expects. 

“Kaoru? Kaidou Kaoru, it really is you!” 

Kaidou pauses mid-stride, blinks. “Uh…” 

“Dude, it’s me, Takeshi! Don’t tell me you don’t remember me!” 

Of course he remembers, Kaidou thinks. Even if he didn’t, that voice, that grin, that hair, unchanged and as obnoxious as the last time he saw him, would have reminded him. Ten years have passed, but Momoshiro hasn’t changed a bit. 

He also looks damn good in suit and tie. Figures. 

Kaidou nods and bows shallowly in greeting. “Momoshiro-san.” 

Visibly taken aback, Momoshiro returns it and says, “I can’t believe I’m meeting you again in Nagoya, of all places.” 

He reaches out, and Kaidou barely has a second to react before Momoshiro is crushing him in a quick hug, patting him heavily on the back before letting go. Kaidou tries to hide his grimace; Momoshiro hasn’t lost an ounce of his old strength. 

Just on the brink of a reply, he’s interrupted by an amused chuckle. “Momoshiro, perhaps introductions are in order?” The man is older, distinguished looking, and his eyes hold a twinkle when they meet Kaidou’s. 

“Ah, yes, this is Ishigaki Dai, president of Ishigaki Design Systems. Pres, Kaidou and I went to school together.” 

“Did you? That’s good to know.” 

If the sudden drop of honorific registers with his superior, he doesn’t show it. Reining in the sudden flare of annoyance, Kaidou bows. 

“Ishigaki-san, it’s an honor. We’ve been expecting you. If you would allow me to lead you both to the meeting room…” 

 

The meeting goes smoothly. Or as smoothly as it could with Momoshiro trying his best to catch Kaidou’s eye from across the crowded table. Kaidou steadfastly ignores him, mood growing steadily blacker as the stares don’t stop but become even more blatant. He feels a surge of satisfaction when Ishigaki had to prompt Momoshiro for his turn during the presentation, although the feeling vanishes quickly once he starts. 

Despite Momoshiro’s many faults, Kaidou has to admit that he’s a damned good salesman. 

“Ishigaki-san, I know a pretty good bar nearby. Shall we have a round of celebratory drinks on me? Kaidou, get those papers to the registry office first thing tomorrow morning, would you?” 

“Of course, Morinaga-san.” He doesn’t rise from his bow until both the presidents leave the room. Then he begins to gather up the signed papers, slotting them into a folder. 

“Hey, Kaidou,” Momoshiro starts. 

“Momoshiro-san! We’re heading to the izakaya, would you like to come?” 

It’s only with a huge amount of effort that Kaidou manages not to roll his eyes. He can imagine it even without seeing it, Satou’s head tilted just so, fingers twirling a lock of hair and seductive smile in place. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that Momoshiro will fall for it. 

“Sure! Kao… uh, Kaidou, how ‘bout it, you coming?” Momoshiro asks brightly.

“I—”

Next to Momoshiro, Satou titters. The sound grates like an untuned violin on Kaidou’s ears. 

“Oh, Momoshiro-san, Kaoru-kun wouldn’t be interested. He’d rather go to a place for, you know, _his_ kind.” 

“His kind?” 

He has to restrain his jaw from clenching, resist the urge to crush the folder in his hands. Drawing a calming breath, he says lightly, “I’m sorry, Momoshiro-san, I still have a lot of work to do. Next time, perhaps.” 

He leaves the room without a backward glance, not stopping until he’s in a seldom-used bathroom two floors up. Tossing the folder onto the counter, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before letting it out in a hiss. 

“Fuck.” 

Hands braced against the sink, he stares unseeingly at his reflection. “Fuck.” 

 

_“Hey Kaidou, what do you think we’d be doing in ten years?”_

_Kaidou grunts._

_“Kaidou? Kaoru, c’mon.”_

_His bed dips as Momoshiro climbs in, hot breath landing against his neck. Annoyed, he clicks his tongue and reaches behind, makes connection with Momoshiro’s face and pushing it away. Then he pulls the covers more firmly over himself._

_“Hopefully you won’t be hogging the covers and breathing down my neck while I’m trying to sleep.”_

_“You don’t want to be with me ten years later?”_

_Even without looking, Kaidou knows without a doubt that Momoshiro is pouting, eyes wide and bottom lip protruding. Not five seconds later, an arm snakes over his waist, a leg over his knees, and Momoshiro is kissing up and down the side of Kaidou’s neck, his ears, his rapidly reddening cheek._

_“Fuck off Momoshiro, I’m tired.”_

_“Your first class tomorrow is in the afternoon,” Momoshiro replies, throwing off the covers and tugging at Kaidou’s shoulder until he gives in and rolls onto his back. Kaidou glares up at him but Momoshiro just laughs, giving him a quick peck, then leaning in again to kiss him more thoroughly._

_When he finally lets up, Kaidou is panting. Momoshiro’s eyes have gone half-lidded, his mouth wet and red._

_“I fucking hate you.”_

_Momoshiro grins. “No you don’t,” he says, in that singsong way he knows Kaidou hates. Hands reaching beneath Kaidou’s shirt, he starts pulling it up. His touch is light, and the short nails scratching at the side of his ribs, catching on his nipples make him gasp. He can’t help but whine when Momoshiro’s weight shifts off him, leaving him bereft. He regrets it instantly when the other boy chuckles._

_“I really, really do,” he grumbles._

_Reaching out, he pulls Momoshiro back from where he’s rifling in the nightstand to drape over him. He’s cold, damnit._

_He doesn’t have to look to see the shit-eating grin on Momoshiro’s face._

_“Don’t worry, Kaoru, you just lie there. I’ll do all the work.”_

 

Has it really been ten years since,” Kaidou murmurs, running a finger over his lips. He can still recall the heat of Momoshiro’s kiss, the rough calluses on his hands. He shakes his head firmly. “Stop thinking about it,” he tells himself. What’s done is done. 

When he gets back to his desk, most of his colleagues have left, Satou included. Right, the izakaya. Clearing his throat, he stretches until he feels his back give with a satisfying _crack_ , then wakes his laptop from hibernation. He didn’t lie to Momoshiro. His work for the day had been postponed for the meeting which went on longer than he had expected, and he needs to get all of it done by today, in addition to the contact report Morinaga-san will expect on his desk by morning. 

It’s past nine when Kaidou finally hits send on the last email. Breathing a sigh of relief, he initiates the shutdown process and packs up, pulling his coat tightly around himself as he leaves the building. With autumn approaching, it’s beginning to get chilly. A sudden pang of hunger reminds him that he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, having used his lunch hour to prepare the documents for the meeting earlier. He’ll grab an onigiri or something from the convenience store next to his apartment, he decides. This late, he doesn’t really feel like cooking. 

He’s barely ten steps from the building when someone calls his name. Startled, he stops in his tracks and spins around, eyes widening when the figure approaching him sharpens. 

“Momoshiro-san? What are you doing here?” 

“Waiting for you, dumbass, what else? What took you so long?” he complains. 

“But, the izakaya? Satou-san…” 

“I didn’t go. Man, it was hard getting the woman off my back, lemme tell you.” He shudders in distaste. “Clingy is so not cute.” 

“And you’ve been here the whole time? For,” Kaidou checks his watch, “two hours?” 

“Yeah. Well, I was in that cafe opposite for most of it, watching for you.” Momoshiro’s face is flushed, probably from the cold. “Kaidou. Kaoru, we need to talk.” 

“No.” Kaidou starts walking. He’s not surprised when Momoshiro immediately follows. 

“Kaidou.” 

“No,” he growls.

Momoshiro grabs his arm, spins him around so they’re face to face. Kaidou notes detachedly that he’s grown stronger over the years. 

“Come on, Kaidou. You just up and left after graduation, you owe me an explanation.” 

“I owe you nothing,” Kaidou hisses, eyes narrowing. “Let go.” 

“No. Not until you tell me why. I waited for you, you know, at the restaurant. When you didn’t show, I called, but your cell wasn’t in service. And then you just vanished. I thought…!” Momoshiro still hasn’t let go, and the fingers around Kaidou’s bicep curl in tight. “I thought something had happened to you. No one knew where you were, not Inui-senpai, not buchou, not even your family. I looked _everywhere_. And now you’re here, in Nagoya, of all places. At least tell me why. Why did you leave without saying anything?” 

Momoshiro sounds wounded, and Kaidou averts his eyes. “There’s no why. I wanted to leave, so I did. Now let go.” 

“Was it me? Did I do something to piss you off?” Momoshiro asks urgently. 

“Let go, Momoshiro.” 

“Finally done with the -san?” Momoshiro sneers. 

Kaidou sighs, suddenly tired. “Look, Momoshiro—Takeshi.” The grip slackens and Kaidou pulls away. It’s been ten years, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He raises a hand, and Momoshiro’s jaw snaps shut. “Besides, it wasn’t you, okay? You didn’t do anything. You were just… you were just being you.” Kaidou lets out a bitter laugh. “I was just stupid enough to think…” 

“Think what?” 

Shaking his head, Kaidou takes a step back, raises a hand to smooth out the wrinkles in his sleeve from where Momoshiro grabbed him. 

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter. Goodbye, Momoshiro.” 

He bows, then turns to leave. He’s relieved when Momoshiro doesn’t follow. 


	2. Chapter 2

It started in their second year. Specifically, it started during their winter break. 

Momoshiro had moved in halfway through the first semester, to both their surprise. Kaidou hadn’t even known that he had applied to TMU. He’d already resented the then-unnamed roommate when he got the news, having grown used to living alone in a double room, and when he realized it was his former teammate and rival, the resentment grew. 

But as time passed, they grew used to being in each other’s space, and the tentative truce they called after the first week of antagonistic, passive-aggressive needling morphed into actual friendship. He liked having a study companion during exams, liked dragging him out on his crazy training schedules—Momoshiro’s words, though he never failed to follow. Liked it when Momoshiro retaliated by whining until Kaidou agreed to go out for burgers. He even found himself growing fond of their weekend tradition, which began one fateful Saturday afternoon when Momoshiro had been struck with a bad cold, huddling down on one bed to watch one of those American TV series Momoshiro liked so much even though he didn’t quite understand them, even with subtitles. 

Seeing his confusion as he tried to work out the dialogue in his head, and his obvious reluctance to ask for a summarized explanation was a great source of entertainment to Kaidou, who makes sure to always look up the synopses online beforehand. 

He grew fond of Momoshiro. His ex-vice captain is bright and cheerful and ever-enthusiastic about everything, the polar opposite of Kaidou, whom people usually gave a wide berth on campus. Kaidou didn’t mind, he was used to it. But then Momoshiro turned up and started following him around, seeking him out in between classes, dragging him out on weekends for blind group dates and rounds at the bar. He even made Kaidou play tennis with him one afternoon, blackmailing him with pictures of him coming out of the shower. Word had spread quickly, drawing a large crowd that chanting Kaidou and Momoshiro’s names alternately. When he’d expressed his surprised at the turn out, Momoshiro just shrugged and reminded him that they’d made national news multiple times, after all. 

Kaidou won in the end, six games to four. It was the happiest he remembered feeling in a long time. 

He started looking forward to seeing Momoshiro after classes, eating with him, hearing his voice. Even his snoring became endearing, and upon realizing he’d been staring fondly at a sleeping (and drooling) Momoshiro in the bed across the room and thinking equally fond thoughts, he promptly turned to face the wall, mortified. 

He _liked_ Momoshiro. Good god. He spent the rest of the night wide awake, too shocked to move a single muscle the entire time. 

Despite his inconvenient feelings, having Momoshiro as a roommate worked out great, so when Kaidou’s parents called to tell him they’ll be going on vacation over winter break with his younger brother, Kaidou doesn’t even hesitate in his agreement to stay in the dorm. It would give him time to prepare for his exams anyway, he reasons. 

“Yes, and Takeshi-kun will be with you too, right?” 

Kaidou shrugs and glances over at Momoshiro, who’s playing a video game on his laptop, tongue stuck between his teeth in concentration. He looks stupid, Kaidou finds himself thinking fondly, before he shudders and shakes the thought out of his head. 

“I guess? I haven’t asked.” 

“I hope he is. At least you’ll have someone to keep you company.” 

“I’m an adult, mom, being alone won’t kill me.” 

His mother chuckles. “Of course not. But you’ll be lonely.” 

Kaidou rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” 

“Well, I have to go. Don’t study too hard, Kaoru. Have some fun once in a while.” 

The call ends with a click and dial tone, and Kaidou tosses the phone on his bed. 

“What did mom say?” 

“Not your mom.” 

“Mom said I could call her that.” He turns around just so he can blow a raspberry in Kaidou’s direction, then returns to the game. “So, what was it?” 

Kaidou leans back in his chair, grabs a dog-eared novel from his desk. “They’re going on vacation with Hazue, asked if I’d rather stay at the dorm over the break.” 

“Huh. So you staying?” 

“I guess. It’s just for two weeks anyway.” Kaidou shrugs. “You?” 

“Don’t know yet. Eri-chan wanted to go to the hot springs, I think. She brought pamphlets.” 

Eri-chan is Kanda Eri, Momoshiro’s girlfriend of just a little over a month. Kaidou has met her, she’s tiny and cute and complements Momoshiro’s loudness and general larger than life personality. 

“That’s nice,” he manages after a few moments. He busies himself with his book when Momoshiro hits pause on his game. 

“Hey, you should come too!” He sounds so excited about the prospect, Kaidou has to resist throwing a pillow at his head. 

“I’m not gonna be a third wheel on your onsen date you idiot.” 

“You wouldn’t be. Eri-chan would understand. Come on, say yes.” 

“No.” 

“Kaidou.” 

“No.” 

“Kaidouuuuu.” 

“…ugh, _fine_. But only if she’s okay with it.” 

 

She wasn’t okay with it. In fact, she was so un-okay with it, she dumped Momoshiro in the middle of their date. According to Momoshiro, he hadn’t even had a bite of his half of their crepe when she had stomped off. 

“I’m sorry,” Kaidou says, still more than half-asleep. They’re curled up together under Kaidou’s blankets, Momoshiro having crept in in the middle of his nap, waking him up. They’re apparently in the cuddling phase of their friendship now. Okay. 

There’s a dull thunk when Momoshiro’s head makes contact with the wall behind him. “What do I do, Kaidou? I already made reservations! They’re non-refundable!” 

“You could apologize.” 

“She made it pretty clear that she never wants to have anything to do with me ever again.” 

Momoshiro sounds so despondent, Kaidou nearly reaches out to hug him. As it is, he just pats him on the knee twice, awkwardly. 

“There, there,” he soothes. Momoshiro makes a sad sound and leans into him. 

After a few moments of silence in which Kaidou tries to decide whether his patting has crossed the border of friendly into weird, Momoshiro suddenly says, “Let’s just go. Together.” 

Kaidou blinks. “What?” 

“You, me, bathing under the stars. Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

“What fun? It’s the middle of winter, dumbass.” 

Momoshiro makes a noise like a dying whale. “I just got dumped, I think I get dumbass immunity. For at least two weeks. And so what if it’s winter or summer or autumn or spring? Come on, Kaidou, let’s goooo.” 

At some point, Kaidou thinks dejectedly, he really ought to learn how to say no to Momoshiro. 

 

Their room in the ryokan is nice. Too nice. 

Momoshiro whistles appreciatively the instant they step in. “Sweet!” he exclaims. “Look, that’s Mount Fuji! This is the nearest I’ve ever been to it. Wow.” 

“Are you sure we can afford this?” Kaidou asks, more than slightly worried. “It looks expensive.” 

Waving a dismissive hand, Momoshiro says, “Oh, don’t worry about it. Adobe was there when I asked Tezuka buchou for recommendations, and he told me to come here. He even said he’ll pay for it—said it’s his good deed of the week for the common folk, or something like that.” 

Kaidou snorts. “Pompous bastard.” 

“Personally, I think he was trying to impress buchou. Didn’t really seem to be working though.” He pushes the terrace door open. It leads to their private bath. “Look at the size of this pool, Kaidou, isn’t it amazing?” 

Kaidou is hit by a blast of cold wind when he follows. “Buchou was with Atobe? Why?” 

“Looked like a date? I don’t know.” Momoshiro shrugs, uncaring. “Come on, let’s explore the town, then we’ll come back and soak.” 

With a grin, he punches Kaidou in the shoulder and makes a beeline for his duffel, humming a cheerful tune. 

Gora isn’t too crowded despite it being winter break. Kaidou is thankful for that. They do the rounds of sightseeing and souvenir shopping, and eat their fill of hot spring eggs before heading back to the ryokan for a full-course dinner. Once the dishes have been cleared, Momoshiro grabs a towel and starts stripping off his yukata. 

Peeling his eyes from tanned skin, Kaidou regrets the sake at dinner. It’s making his skin prickle uncomfortably. 

“You coming, Kaidou?” Momoshiro is already outside, rinsing himself with bath water. 

“Y-yeah. Give me a second.” 

Clearing his throat, Kaidou wills his heartbeat to normalize, and steps onto the covers terrace, shivering from the cold. Heading toward the shower, he undresses and douses himself with warm water, scrubbing under his arms and around his groin. 

“Come on, the water feels great!” 

Grabbing his towel, Kaidou shuts off the water and turns, covering himself with the tiny piece of terry cloth. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

Momoshiro is right. The hot water feels amazing against his chilled skin, although the sudden temperate difference stings, making him hiss. They soak for a while, taking turns to climb out and scrub themselves off properly at the shower before returning to the bath. 

“Can you believe some people live like this every day?” 

Kaidou hums, eyes closed. he’s leaning against the edge of the bath, towel on his head, and it feels divine. 

“I mean, for people like Atobe, this is probably normal, huh.” Momoshiro pauses before continuing, “You think he’s brought buchou here?” 

With a snort, Kaidou says, “Buchou would rather climb the mountain than look at it,” gesturing in the direction where he thinks Mount Fuji is. He can’t really tell in the dark. 

Momoshiro laughs, loose and open. His face is flushed, whether from the heat of the alcohol at dinner, Kaidou can’t tell. “You’re probably right. Dunno if Atobe will be willing to climb a mountain for buchou though.” 

Cracking an eye open, Kaidou turns to grin at him. He likes being with Momoshiro like this, just the two of them hanging out, relaxed and easy. It makes him regret all the time they spent fighting with each other in middle school when they could have had this instead. This Momoshiro with droplets in his hair, shoulders bare, feet brushing against his in a tub more than big enough for two. All he has to do is reach out and lean forward a little bit, and…

“—dou. Kaidou?” 

Momoshiro is watching him, an odd expression on his face. Kaidou clears his throat, averts his gaze. 

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Kaidou, can you see the stars from over there?” 

“Huh? Yeah, sure. It’s nice and clear out tonight… Wait, what are you doing?” he asks when Momoshiro shifts to sit next to him, making the water slop dangerously. He’s unexpectedly close and Kaidou’s skin tingles. 

“Oh wow, they’re gorgeous,” he says happily. There’s barely an inch of water separating them and Kaidou itches to move away, put some space between them so he can remember how to breathe. 

“I’m glad we came.” Momoshiro’s voice is soft and sincere, compelling Kaidou to face him. Their eyes meet, catch. There are stars in Momoshiro’s, and Kaidou can’t look away. 

“I’m glad I came with you.” 

_Oh, fuck it_. Taking a deep breath, Kaidou leans in and kisses him. 

Even as his mind whirls at _soft_ and _heat_ and _Momoshiro_ , he braces himself for the push, a punch in the face, maybe, but what he doesn’t expect is the fingers curling in his hair and Momoshiro kissing him back. Kaidou’s breath hitches at the first touch of tongue, moaning into the kiss as Momoshiro’s hands travel down his side, his hip, his knee—god, his _knee_ , he never expected that to be an erogenous zone. The bathwater sloshes around them as they press up against each other, chest to chest and hands everywhere, muffling the sounds they’re making and it’s too much, too much, Kaidou wants—

“More,” he gasps, when Momoshiro finally lets up, only to nose at his neck in search of his pulse, biting down when he finds it. “Ah, _fuck, Momoshiro_.” 

A questing hand finds his groin, making Kaidou hiss sharply. Intending to give as good as he gets, Kaidou reaches down to do the same. Already half hard, Momoshiro’s dick lengthens in Kaidou’s hand and he closes his fist around it, jacking him off slowly. It makes Momoshiro groan in his ear, pained. 

“Shit, Kaidou.” His words are punctuated with a jerk of his hips, a nip on Kaidou’s earlobe. “Futon, not, _ngh_ , not here. Come on.”

Grabbing his hand, Momoshiro leads him out of the bath. The night air raises goosebumps on their skin, making them shiver violently and dash for the relative warmth of their room, where they left the heater running. Kaidou finds himself watching as Momoshiro towels himself dry, taking inventory of the body on display. It’s gorgeous, all tanned skin and lean muscles honed by years of tennis. He’s so busy staring, he doesn’t notice Momoshiro advancing on him until he’s engulfed in a terry cloth. 

“Like what you see?” Momoshiro teases as he runs the towel across his back and down his arms and his stomach, drying him off. When he starts to crouch so he can get at his thighs and calves, Kaidou starts. 

“I can do it myself,” he says gruffly. Grabbing the towel, he rubs himself down with brisk strokes. 

“Suit yourself.” Momoshiro leans back on the futons, slowly pulling at his cock. It had gone limp in the brief, piercing cold, but it grows before Kaidou’s eyes. He swallows hard and looks away. 

Once he’s dry, Kaidou drops the towel and waits, awkward. Momoshiro is still watching him. Kaidou thinks the flush on his face right now probably rivals Rudolph’s nose. 

“Momoshiro…” 

“Takeshi. If we’re gonna fuck, you’re calling me Takeshi.” 

“I, uh… Wait, what?” 

Momoshiro grins, eyes dark. “Come here, Kaoru.” 

Helpless, Kaidou goes. 


	3. Chapter 3

Kaidou’s favorite time in his workday is the one hour he gets for lunch.

“Minami-chan, let’s check out that new cafe today?”

“Oh, yes! Kondou-san, Nagisa-kun, would you like to come?”

“Of course! The food’s really great. Kao—”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been there already, Katahira? With your girlfriend?” Kondou teases.

“Eh? Nagisa-kun has a girlfriend? I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

“I, um…”

Their voices fade as they leave the office and Kaidou breathes a sigh of relief from his desk, unnoticed. It’s not like he doesn’t like his colleagues, but they can get exhausting at times.

Grabbing his lunchbox, he decides to eat in the nearby park. It’s uncharacteristically warm and sunny, a rare good weather day this close to fall, and Kaidou intends to take full advantage of it.

There aren’t many people out and around this time of day. Besides other office workers who had the same idea as him, there’s just a few other people walking their dogs and a couple sharing a picnic underneath a tree. Kaidou barely spares them a glance before settling on a nearby bench. The ground is littered with leaves, reminding him of another time when everything is red and gold and green.

 

_“I don’t see Hazue. Do you?”_

_Training his camera on the field, Kaidou toggles the zoom button. The relay race is starting in about five minutes and his mom had tasked him with filming duties, since dad’s out of town for work. Carefully, he scans the faces on the small screen._

_“Yeah, I see him. Third lane, next to the teacher in green.”_

_“Here you go, Kaidou-san.”_

_Turning to accept the snacks and water, she smiles at Momoshiro gratefully. “Thank you, Takeshi-kun. And I told you, call me mom. You and Kaidou are such good friends, I see you like my own son.”_

_Kaidou stifles the urge to roll his eyes. “He starts calling you that and next thing we know he’ll be eating us out of house and home, mom. Don’t think dad will be too pleased.”_

_“Nonsense! Your father likes Takeshi-kun as much as I do.”_

_“Yeah, Kaoru, dad looooooves me,” Momoshiro sing-song, nudging him in the side with an elbow. It hurt. He glares at Momoshiro and his perfect, stupid grin._

_The race starts with the crack of a gun, Kaidou watching his baby brother through the camera screen. He’s running the second leg for his team. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet in nervousness makes Kaidou smile, fond. Hazue’s classmate is fast, and it’s no time before the baton is passed to him and he’s sprinting off._

_“Go, Hazue! Go go go!”_

_Momoshiro cheers loudly from next to Kaidou, snacks forgotten. Kaidou keeps the camera trained on Hazue, keeping it steady even when Momoshiro accidentally jostles him in his excitement. Sweat beads underneath his bandanna, not unlike during his tennis matches._

_Hazue’s team comes in second in the end. Despite being in the lead for most of the race, their anchor was overtaken at the very last second by another runner. Still, Kaidou can’t help but grin back at an ecstatic Momoshiro, who reaches out to pull him close in a one-armed hug._

_They congratulate Hazue when he joins them, Kaidou ruffling his hair while their mother hugs him. He trades a fist bump with Momoshiro, who lifts him up bodily with his hug and promises him hamburgers after the event, to which Kaidou grins, because Hazue really hates hamburgers. He tells Momoshiro that because his brother is still too shy around his Takeshi nii-san, still too unused to the boisterous cheer and effusive nature of the tennis player. Momoshiro just shrugs, unfazed._

_“Then let’s go to Taka-san’s. You like sushi, don’t you, Hazue? It’s the best in town!”_

_Hazue nods, grinning shyly. Momoshiro’s cheeks are flushed from excitement, his voice hoarse from cheering, and Kaidou’s heart skips a beat before restarting with a vengeance. Momoshiro’s grin dazzles in the autumn sun and Kaidou can’t help but fall all over again._

 

Kaidou is poking listlessly at an egg roll when a shadow falls over him.

“Yo.”

“M-momoshiro?” Kaidou yelps. After the previous night, Kaidou hasn't been expecting to see Momoshiro again, yet here he is. “What are you doing here?”

“Got a free day from a canceled meeting so I decided to come find you. Was gonna ask you to lunch, but I think you got that covered. Are you eating that?”

Without waiting for a reply, Momoshiro grabs the egg roll with his fingers and stuffs it into his mouth.

“Mm. Your cooking is amazing, Kaidou. Nothing's changed here.” At least, that's what Kaidou thinks he said. He can't quite tell with the chewing.

“You're still a slob. Swallow before you talk,” Kaidou gripes, flushing when Momoshiro raises a suggestive brow. He looks away, embarrassed, and angry at himself for being embarrassed.

“And you're still a nag,” Momoshiro counters. He's not even fazed.

Rolling his eyes, Kaidou sighs as Momoshiro continues to steal bits of his lunch, grinning unabashedly whenever their eyes meet. He ends up pushing the lunch box over to Momoshiro, appetite gone.

“When are you heading back to Tokyo?”

“Why? You miss me already?” Momoshiro teases. “The day after. We've got another meeting tomorrow morning. By the way, I met Satou-san and the rest on the way here, at that new cafe.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, that guy... young? Floppy hair? Told me you were here.”

“Oh, that's Nagisa... what?” he says when Momoshiro levels him with a petulant glare.

“Nagisa, huh? You seem chummy. He called you Kaoru too. And what's up with you and Satou anyway? Such animosity.”

“Wow, a ten-dollar word,” Kaidou replies, not unsarcastically. “None of your business.” He ignores Momoshiro, who's wearing a wounded look on his face, and pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “I gotta go, my hour's almost—hey!”

Grinning, Momoshiro leaps out of reach, Kaidou’s phone in hand. He taps at the keypad and tosses it back, then retrieves his own phone. Unsurprisingly, it’s buzzing. Sneaky bastard.

“Don’t go changing your number now, Kaidou! See ya!”

Momoshiro leaves with a smirk and a wave. Kaidou is left seething.

 

“Hey Kaoru senpai, did Momoshiro-san manage to find you alright?”

Kaidou shoots Katahira a smile and nods. “Yeah. Thanks, Nagisa.”

“Are you two friends? You seem close.”

“Uh, we were in the tennis club together.”

“Oh, you play tennis? So do I! Let’s play together sometime?”

Katahira is so enthusiastic, Kaidou doesn’t have the heart to turn him down. “Yeah, sure.”

Just then, his phone buzzes with a new text from an unknown number.

_‘It’s me, it’s me. What time do you get off today?’_

It buzzes again.

_‘I’ll wait for you at the entrance of your building~’_

And again.

_‘Don’t make me wait too long!’_

“Fucking bastard,” Kaidou growls.

“Who is it, senpai?”

“Uh… one of those ore-ore conmen.” He shrugs at Katahira’s commiserating smile. Powering off his phone, he tosses it into his drawer and promptly forgets about the texts.

 

The rest of the day passes by in a blur of paperwork, reports, and meetings. Heaped with a mountain of work, Kaidou quickly loses track of the time. When he finally looks up from his screen, it’s long past dinner time. No wonder his stomach hurts. He has got to stop making this a habit.

“Hey,” Momoshiro greets him as soon as he steps out of the building.

Damn, he completely forgot.

“I really hope they’re paying you for all the overtime you put in, Kaidou,” Momoshiro says, clucking like a mother hen. “You haven’t eaten, have you?” Grabbing Kaidou by the elbow, he starts down the street.

“Momoshiro.”

“What do you feel like eating? No more family restaurants though, I think I’ve had my fill of hamburgers this week. Never thought I’d say that, but there it is. How about ramen?”

“Momoshiro…” Kaidou tries again, and Momoshiro stops.

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say. It’s been ten years, it’s over, blah blah blah. Fine, I respect that.”

“Then—”

“But we were friends first, weren’t we? Before I went and mucked it up.” At Kaidou’s skeptical look, he corrects, “Okay, okay, we were rivals first. But then we became friends, so… We can still be friends.” Momoshiro nudges him. “Can’t we? Ne, Kaidou, be my friend?”

The last word is drawn out in a theatrical whine and Kaidou snorts. Ten years on and he’s still the same.

“You’re nearly thirty now, dumbass. Act like it.”

“That’s a yes, then?” Momoshiro says cheerily, ignoring Kaidou’s protesting hiss and throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“I didn’t—” Kaidou starts to argue, but Momoshiro interrupts him.

“Nuh-uh, no take backs! Come on, friend, I saw a ramen place down the road that looked pretty good. Let’s go let’s go!”

 _Friends_ , Kaidou thinks. Okay, he can do this.

 

He can’t do this.

“So this is where you live,” Momoshiro says as he toes of his shoes. It’s followed by a soft murmur of _ojamashimasu_ —unexpectedly restrained, considering the number of dirty looks they had thrown their way during the short ten-minute walk from the izakaya to his apartment. Kaidou has clean forgotten how loud Momoshiro can get once he’s had a few drinks in him.

He hands Momoshiro a pair of house slippers from the shoe cupboard and slips his feet into his own waiting pair.

“It’s not much.”

It really isn’t; a tiny shoebox apartment in downtown Nagoya, but it’s within walking distance to his office building, which was his main reason for signing the rental agreement in the first place. Aside from the convenience of not having to commute to work every day, there’s also a cinema two buildings over and a convenience store just around the corner. It’s small but it’s all he needs, and since finding out two weeks ago that the unit down the hall is being sold off, he’s been seriously considering putting down a deposit. He’s been renting all this time, a decade since graduation. It’s probably high time to put down some roots.

“Make yourself at home,” he says as he heads to the kitchenette. “I’ll make some tea. Is barley okay?”

“Barley? In November?”

“It’s the only thing I have here that’s not caffeinated, besides water.” Kaidou is taken aback when Momoshiro positively beams at him.

“You remembered.”

Kaidou shrugs. Three years of being roommates is more than enough for him to remember never to give Momoshiro anything more caffeinated than a soda. His genetic caffeine sensitivity was helpful when he had to pull all-nighters for term papers due the next day and nothing else, especially not now, when he’s supposed to be a salaryman with a routine to follow.

He goes through the motions of making tea—filling the kettle, spooning barley grains into disposable tea bags, listening to the water bubble as it comes to a boil. The ritual is familiar and soothing and for a moment, it helps Kaidou forget that Momoshiro is in his apartment.

It’s nerve-wracking, having Momoshiro in his personal space, distractingly close. Momoshiro had come back to Nagoya several times after that first trip in early September and he’d called up Kaidou every time, wheedling until he agrees to dinner, drinks, dinner and drinks. Protests and avoidance were futile, because Momoshiro merely stations himself outside Kaidou’s office building until he has no choice but to give in. It’s like college all over again, Momoshiro being nothing less than friendly and effusive and charming and altogether _Momoshiro_ , and if he squints, Kaidou can almost see the ten years of non-contact shrinking dangerously into nothing.

The kettles whistles, jolting his wandering mind back into his body and he fills the waiting mugs with tea.

“It’s hot,” he cautions as he hands it over, fingers damp from the steam. He pulls back before they brush Momoshiro’s turning toward the couch.

“This is just like old times,” Momoshiro says as they settle in. “Remember? At the dorm, we would sit like this and watch bad tv and drink tea.” He grins. “You really had shit taste in shows.” 

Kaidou snorts. “Like your melodramas were any better.”

“Like your reality shows were any less hammy.”

“Like you weren’t ridiculously invested in Ray J and Princess Love’s relationship.”

“God, do you remember when she fell into the pool?” Momoshiro says with a chuckle.

“She was pushed, dumbass.”

“Pushed, fell, whatever. It was karma, and it was pure reality gold.”

“Hah! See, you did enjoy it.”

Crowing triumphantly, he glances over at Momoshiro, only to find the other man watching him, a fond look on his face.

“I never said I didn’t.”

He doesn’t seem to just be talking about the show, and Kaidou looks away, a blush heating up his neck.

That night, with Momoshiro snoring on a futon not two feet away from his own, Kaidou lays wide awake, swallowing the urge to scream. He punches his pillow instead.


	4. Chapter 4

The days grow shorter, red and gold giving way to gray and white but aside from that, nothing much changes. It’s still wet and it’s still cold, and Kaidou still calls his mother every other week to let her know he’s doing fine, texts Hazue gruff encouragement whenever his brother writes to complain about his residency at the hospital. 

Kaidou is proud of him, he really is, but old habits die hard. No matter how much his brother complains (cutely) about how un-cute Kaidou’s grumpiness is. 

At least Momoshiro refrains from doing the same, even though Kaidou dials the churlishness up to a thousand for him. His former roommate continues to make the trip from Tokyo every few weeks, sometimes for business, sometimes during the weekends. To _get out of the city for some fresh air_ , he says. He doesn’t always tell Kaidou about his trips, choosing to show up unannounced at his door late at night, overnight bag in hand and smile unapologetically cheery. 

Kaidou has always been weak against that smile. 

“You need to stop doing this,” he says one late November night after opening the door for Momoshiro. The chill seeps through the neck of his sleep shirt, making him shiver, and he hurriedly ushers the other man inside. 

“Why hello to you too,” Momoshiro replies, bumping against his shoulder congenially. “Here, omiyage.” 

Momoshiro’s eyes are fever-bright from the cold outside, cheeks flushed and hair tousled by the wind. Even bundled up in a thick coat and two scarves, he’s unfairly good looking, and Kaidou tamps down the familiar mix of attraction and resentment. He watches as Momoshiro hangs the wet garments up on the coat rack, movements confident and sure. He’s completely at ease in Kaidou’s space. It prickles. 

“My house is not a hotel,” he grumbles. It comes out with less heat than he planned. Especially when he finds himself automatically laying out Momosh— _a spare pair_ of house slippers for the other man. 

“I know, that’s why I brought you something. To thank you for your hospitality and all that.” 

At Momoshiro’s encouraging gesture, Kaidou peeks into the bag, interested despite himself.“Sushi?” 

“Yeah. I was at Taka-san’s with Fuji senpai earlier, and when I told them I was coming over he packed some up for you.” 

“Is it even edible anymore?” Kaidou asks dubiously, but moves to the kitchen to plate it up anyway. After a moment’s hesitation, he also heats up the leftover fried rice from dinner. He’ll figure out something for lunch tomorrow; knowing Momoshiro, he’s probably starving after the train ride. It’s a wonder the sushi remained untouched. He’ll just have to pop by the convenience store before work to grab a bento or something. 

The muted sound of the TV and Momoshiro’s bark of laughter drifts across the apartment to Kaidou. Then again, probably not. 

Momoshiro is sprawled out on the couch, flicking through the channels when Kaidou returns with the food. Waving off Momoshiro’s offer to move, he places the food on the coffee table and settles himself on the floor against the couch. He’s careful not to brush against Momoshiro’s legs as he does so. 

Scrutinizing the platter of sushi, he decides to take his chances with a yellowtail, closing his eyes in bliss as the combined taste of the vinegar-flavored rice and earthy fish explodes across his palate. It’s been a long time since he’s tasted his senior’s cooking, and it’s still as good as he remembers. 

“Good?” Momoshiro asks quietly, and Kaidou looks up to find him watching intently. Reminiscing half smile still on his face, he hurriedly ducks his head, cheeks coloring. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles. 

Through a mouthful of rice, Momoshiro says, “They asked after you, by the way. Wanted to know how you were doing now, since you all but fell off the face of the earth.” 

Kaidou slants a glance at him. “They did?” 

“Yeah, of course they did. They care about you, Kaidou,” Momoshiro chides. “I told them you were doing okay.” 

“How are they?” Kaidou asks. 

“Really good! Fuji senpai got a promotion recently—he’s working in a law firm, and Taka-san’s opened another franchise. They’re talking about a reunion soon, once the season ends and buchou and Echizen comes back from the US. Did you know they played each other recently? Ah, I’m so excited to see everyone again. Aren’t you?” 

Momoshiro’s still loud when he’s fired up, that hasn’t changed. It’s difficult to tear his eyes from his animated face, but Kaidou manages it all the same. Spotting a grain of rice on the coffee table, he reaches out with his chopsticks to pick it up. He sets the tiny grain on the side of a plate.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it.” 

 

The stack of folders land on his desk with a loud slam, sending his coffee mug crashing onto the tiled floor. Thankfully, it's long been emptied. Broken glass is much easier to clean off carpets than spills.

“There. All yours.” Satou’s eyes are narrowed, her mouth a moue of distaste. “I hope you’re happy.” 

Frowning, Kaidou flips the first folder open. “What’s this?” 

“The Ishigaki account. They've requested for you, specifically. Not like it's a surprise, the way you act around that loudmouth. What’d you do for it, suck him off in the toilet?” 

“Satou-san!” Katahira exclaims. 

“Oh don’t pretend like you’re not all thinking the same thing,” Satou spits. “I’ve had enough of you! Gallivanting around the office, tricking innocent people into believing you’re anything other than the perverted, unnatural, dep—”

“Satou-san, a word? In my office.” 

The sharpness of Morinaga’s voice cracks across the workspace like a whip, silencing Satou immediately. With one last glare, she spins and strides into the president’s office. 

“Kaoru senpai,” Katahira begins, hesitant. “Are you…”

Kaidou feels his colleagues looking over in barely concealed interest, their stares like a brand. He hates them all. 

Jaw clenching, he pushes his seat back and stands. “Excuse me.” 

He heads to the seventh floor, gripping tightly onto his phone like a lifeline. The man who brushes past him on the way into the bathroom looks at him strangely when he enters, and when he finally manages to lock himself into a cubicle after fumbling with the latch for a few seconds, he understands why. He sinks onto the toilet lid, trying to keep his hands steady as he dials. 

_"Hello, this is Momoshiro of Ishigaki Design Systems. How can I be of help today?"_

The cheeriness of his voice rankles, makes his stomach churn stronger. ”Momoshiro.” 

_"Kaidou? Is that you? What's up?"_

"I got the Ishigaki account." Kaidou starts. 

_“That’s good news! Did you want to celebrate? I can leave work early and be there around nine or so.”_

“No!” Kaidou’s exhale is shaky. “No. I was surprised to get it, that’s all. I don’t suppose you had put in a good word for me?” 

Momoshiro’s laugh sounds natural when it comes despite the distortion of the satellites and the speakers on his phone. He doesn’t trust it one bit. 

_“Well, I did tell the prez you’re really good at tennis, if that’s what you mean.”_ Kaidou must have stayed silent for too long, because Momoshiro prompts, _“Kaidou? You still there?”_

Starting, Kaidou says, “Y-yeah. It’s nothing, Momoshiro. Sorry for calling so suddenly.” 

_“Hell, you can call me any time you want! In fact, I think this is the first time you have. I like it.”_

Momoshiro’s voice drops to a lower register as he teases, the dulcet tones sending a thrill up Kaidou’s spine. Kaidou hates it, how Momoshiro still has power over him, even after all these years. Kaidou hates him. 

_“Kaidou?”_

“Huh?” 

_“Kaidou, are you okay? Did something happen?”_

“I—no, it’s nothing. I have to go, Momoshiro.” 

He hangs up in a rush, then drops his head into his hands. His breathing steadies gradually, but it takes just a little longer for the roiling anger in his gut to slow down into a simmer. 

He feels slightly better, vindictive even, upon returning to his desk with not a single hair out of place, to learn that Satou has been fired. The news is delivered quietly by Katahira and Kaidou nods, pretending not to see the looks his other colleagues are sending his way. 

“Are you okay?” Katahira continues, hesitant. 

Kaidou nods again, mustering up a reassuring smile for the younger man. Katahira doesn’t look convinced, but at this point, Kaidou finds he doesn’t care one bit. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the two people who have been waiting for this (and that includes me), here is a very, very, VERY late update. it's probably schizophrenic to the story so far, i haven't thought about this until very recently (like, a week ago recently), and my last update was in JANUARY THIS YEAR CAN YOU BELIEVE??
> 
> but anyway i was recently rewatching the entire tenipuri/shinpuri series again (just finished it yesterday yay!) and got second wind for this. i will finish this at some point, i promise! it may take forever but i won't abandon this i swear. please don't give up on me. m(_ _)m

Kaidou is not at all surprised to find Momoshiro waiting at his doorstep when he gets home that night. There’s a duffel next to him instead of his usual briefcase, and a white plastic bag with a convenience store logo hanging from his doorknob. He’s dozing off, the idiot, and given the choice, Kaidou would love to pretend he never saw Momoshiro, but his former teammate is slumped against his door. Last he checked, it’s the only way to get into his house.

With a hiss, he gives Momoshiro a kick, taking great satisfaction in the way he splutters awake, arms windmilling as he nearly tips sideways to meet concrete.

“Wha—Kaidou?”

“You’re blocking my door.”

Not waiting for the sheepish apology, Kaidou nudges him out of the way and unlocks the door, not bothering to hold it open as he slips his shoes off at the entrance. It’s not necessary, Momoshiro is more than adept at making himself welcome wherever he goes. Case in point, the sound of the lock turning and the deadbolt sliding into place as he pads into the kitchen. Kaidou forces himself to relax his clenched jaw.

“You can’t blame me for falling asleep, Kaidou, you’re the one who worked late despite your promotion. When I skived off the last couple of hours so I could get here early too,” Momoshiro complains.

Kaidou turns, a scathing reply at the tip of his tongue, but the rustling of plastic stops him.

“Here. Omedetou, Kaidou.” When Kaidou doesn’t make any move to take it, Momoshiro clicks his tongue and takes it upon himself to unearth the sushi and sixpack he apparently bought before coming over. “I stopped by Taka-san’s,” he explains.

Although he turns to grab chopsticks, Kaidou scoffs. “You’re almost thirty, Momoshiro, it’s time you stopped mooching off Kawamura-senpai.”

“Me, mooch? I paid for this! Look, here’s the receipt,” comes the indignant reply. “I had to insist too, Taka-san was so excited to hear about your promotion he didn’t want to let me pay. ”

Kaidou ignores him, taking his spot at the opposite end of the coffee table, leaning back against the couch. A whole table between them is not near enough but it’s better than nothing. He eats the sushi and drinks the beer, replying non-committally to Momoshiro’s mindless chattering, until the other man gets the hint and turns on the TV, flipping through the channels and stopping at a gameshow hosted by a couple of former idols-turned-actors. Kaidou recognizes them; their faces are plastered all over the trains and prepackaged food at the convenience stores.

A commercial comes on and Momoshiro flips through the channels again. It would have annoyed Kaidou but he’s warm, having climbed onto the couch early on, his belly is full, and he’s just a little bit drunk from cheap beer, so he merely sends him an annoyed _tch_. For once, Momoshiro obeys, stopping on a sports channel broadcasting the Japan Open. Kaidou doesn’t really want to watch it but with the remote all the way at the other end of the couch where Momoshiro is, he doesn’t really have a choice.

“Good serve.”

Kaidou grunts and pulls the afghan around him, not really interested in where this conversation is going.

“Nice follow through!”

He’s _really_ not interested.

“Ah, too slow. We would definitely have gotten to it. Right, Kaidou?”

 _Echizen would have_ , he silently argues, then shuts his eyes tight. He hopes Momoshiro will take it as a signal, but of course he doesn’t. Kaidou wonders which deity he pissed off on the way home.

“You ever miss it, Kaidou? I do.”

Kaidou grits his teeth against the snarl in his throat. 

“Not just tennis, you know? But being a team, running the club together, you and me against the world.”

Fuck this. Standing, he glares down at Momoshiro. He’s sprawled over the couch, eyes wide as he stares back, confused. Over the sudden heat in his chest, he finds himself idly wondering how Momoshiro’s hair, after all these years, is still as gravity-defying as ever. How he still looks like he had at thirteen when they’d first met, all those years back. It’s… aggravating. And the more he thinks about it, the more the heat in his stomach boils, roiling in the medley of fish and rice and alcohol. He wants to punch something.  

“Kaidou?”

And in the end, it’s the care with which Momoshiro says his name that breaks him. The heat crests, surges.

“Why are you here, Momoshiro? Why are you always here? Why aren’t you back in Tokyo with your friends or your girlfriend or whatever? I was fine before you showed up at college with your stupid smile and your stupid hair, I’m finally fine after all these years, why did you have to come back and fuck up my life _again_?”

He’s panting at the end of his outburst, fists clenched and head spinning. Momoshiro’s face goes from bewildered to indignant before it falls—no, _crumples_ , and Kaidou’s anger dissipates just as quickly. Gut twisting, he looks away.

“I—”

The apology is cut off before it’s even half-formed. “Is that how you really feel? How you’ve always felt? That I—that I’m fucking up your life?”

There’s a catch in Momoshiro’s voice but it’s Kaidou who’s got a lump in his throat. Jaw tightening, he breathes shallowly, tries to swallow past it. He doesn’t reply, he can’t, not even when Momoshiro finally utters a defeated, “I understand.”

The squeak of his front door when it swing open is quiet, and Kaidou almost turns back to—do something, he’s not sure what, but something. Still, he doesn’t, not until it clicks shut and he whirls around but it’s too late, too late. Exhaling, he snaps his jaws shut, lowers the outstretched hand.

It’s much too late.

 

The next day is Saturday. It dawns bright and cheery and for the first time in years, Kaidou desperately wants to skip his daily morning run. He turns over in his bed once, flinging the covers over his head, but has to drag himself out of it anyway when the pigeons start cooing. They come every morning without fail, acting as his alarm. Their birdsong is normally soothing, but today they grate and do nothing to lift his already bad mood.

It’s all Momoshiro’s fault, he thinks as he shrugs a thick hoodie and sweatpants over his thermal underwear. He’d been good for the past ten years. Not at first, no, but he’d been good after that, _made_ himself good as he built a new life for himself after—he refuses to think about it—after graduation, one without Momoshiro. The first few months, hell, the first _year_ had been rough. He’d seen Momoshiro everywhere he looked—fast food restaurants, tennis courts, even the flutter of a yellow t-shirt once. He’d felt pathetic, and it wasn’t until he accepted the transfer and moved to Nagoya that he’d finally become at ease with himself.

The memory rises unbidden as he’s brushing his teeth. He spits the mixture of saliva and toothpaste in his mouth into the sink with more violence than necessary, but it doesn’t go away. It feels like he’s back in that pub again; he can almost smell the cigarette smoke in the air, taste the years-old grime that coats places like these. He’s never liked such places but it’s the nearest watering hole to the dorms, with a clientele that keeps to their solitary selves, and that’s what Kaidou wants, what he needs after that nightmare of a final he’s just had; he desperately needs a drink or ten.

There’s music playing, he remembers. It’s not loud enough to intrude but enough that the bass thrums through everything, the wooden bar underneath his fingers, the worn leather of the stool he’s sitting on. It throbs low in the vicinity of his chest, lulls him into a mild stupor as he nurses his beer—his fourth, he thinks—before it’s cut through by a familiar laughing voice.

 _Momoshiro_ , he grumbles silently. What’s he doing here?

He fights the urge to turn around and look. Not just because he doesn’t want to have to field stupidity when he doesn’t _have_ to, outside of the occasional spontaneous tennis matches and impromptu vacations and, oh, the whole sleeping together thing. Both figuratively and literally. But also because there’s a very feminine lilt to the voice that speaks up after Momoshiro’s dies down, pitched for coyness, saying, “That roommate of yours, I see him around on campus sometimes. He seems interesting. Are you two close?”

Momoshiro laughs again. “Kaidou? Nah, he’s boring, and kind of a pain in the ass.”

Kaidou frowns, although he’s mollified by the girl’s reply. “Really? I saw him feeding a stray cat the other day, it was sweet.”

He can almost picture Momoshiro’s dismissive wave. “You must have seen wrong. That Kaidou, he’s an asshole. One time in junior high he smacks my bento from the table, like this,” Kaidou imagines an expansive slash of Momoshiro’s arm, “I was hungry the entire day.”

What utter bullshit. Scoffing, Kaidou bites his tongue against the reply that fights for release. He did do it, but only because Momoshiro had been provoking beyond belief, even more so than usual. He’d given his bento to him as an apology too, so _he’d_ been the one to starve that day. Momoshiro’s always hungry anyway.

“You must have been trying his patience, Takeshi-kun,” the girl says, and Kaidou applauds her intelligence. “You’re always trying mine.”

And Kaidou’s not too sure if it’s the words, or the dip of her voice, but somehow, he just knows she’s not just referring to Momoshiro’s chronic tardiness, his obscene appetite for greasy fast food, or even his penchant for whining. It’s confirmed by Momoshiro’s own words next.

“You weren’t complaining earlier, if memory serves me right.”

She giggles, a fluttery, melodic sound that’s equal parts shy and seductive. He thinks about what Momoshiro said, or rather, _how_ he had said it, voice dipping low the way it does when he—oh, _oh_. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, and the rush of sobriety it hits Kaidou with is almost brutal in its force.

The water from the tap is ice cold and it does the same, waking Kaidou up all the way. Momoshiro never noticed when he left, head tucked low. Neither did his companion, for all her supposed interest in him. Kaidou remembers being vaguely irritated by that, never mind that he has no idea how he should react, had they seen him.

Or how he would have.

But it’s a moot point, now. That one chance encounter had given Kaidou enough reason, enough impetus, to act on what had previously been just a fearful what-if, a thread of uncertainty that he had successfully stopped from unravelling with every look, touch, kiss. Every day Momoshiro continues dragging him out to lunch, or tennis, or movie. Every time Momoshiro visits him at the library when he studies late, with bentos and hot canned coffee in convenience store bags. Every whispered rumor of Momoshiro turning down this kouhai or that senpai, how he never attends goukons anymore, no matter how one cajoles or tempts. Kaidou had thought it was par for the course of their developing relationship—and here present-Kaidou sneers at his past self for having even entertained the fancy, because what _relationship_?—but well.

That thread unravels now, brings to the fore all the buried but unforgotten moments, like Momoshiro always choosing to go back to his own bed to sleep after sex, or how lunches and movies inevitably end up in love hotels. How for all the time Momoshiro spends with Kaidou’s family, Kaidou has never been invited to visit, much less talked about by name in the short conversations he has with his parents that Kaidou’s gotten to hear. He’s always _my roommate_ , or the rarer,  _my friend_ , and never more than that.

Kaidou gives his head a hard shake. No point dwelling in the past. And while he has no idea what Momoshiro wants with him now, a decade later, Kaidou knows with certainty what he doesn’t.

He knows what he wants too, but he’s never been one to put stock in the fanciful.


End file.
